


There Were So Many Sunflowers

by questionability



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Liam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, BRAND NEW BITCH, Bottom Zayn Malik, Gay Sex, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, No Homophobia, Omega Liam, Omega Louis, Pack Bonding, Pining, Slow Burn, Time Travel, Top Harry Styles, fated pairs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2020-06-26 05:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19761511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionability/pseuds/questionability
Summary: “You were so cute when you were 16,” The boy disagreed. “You’d hum this song and then fall asleep with your mouth open.”“Are you a spirit?” Zayn’s eys pointed downward towards the boy’s shirt, suddenly remembering what they were talking about before they both got distracted. “Why are you disappearing?”“I guess you could call me a spirit,” The boy hummed. “Maybe a soul guide. And for the other question, I’m not really sure. I think it has to do with time running out.”It's an unlikely pairing--Zayn's family drills for oil in the Middle East and Harry runs a sunflower farm. They've been dreaming about each other for over five years.





	There Were So Many Sunflowers

**Author's Note:**

> I completely rewrote this because of how much I hated it. It's a brand new bitch for a brand new era. Enjoy.

_ “And there was music, and there was wonderful roses, they tell me in sweet silent meadows of dawn, and dew…there was love, all around, and I never heard it singing--”  _

“Could you turn that off? Please?” 

An immediate rush to the gramophone, then a silence that whipped through the air of the room. “Are you alright, darling?” 

“I’m fine,” Zayn’s tongue stumbled when he lied, “That song just upsets me nowadays.” 

“Alright, darling. If you are so abhorrent to it, I’ll change it to something else. What about Carousel?” 

“Why did you keep that old gramophone anyways?” Zayn cut her off, briskly sweeping his eyes back down towards his paper. “You could probably sell it for a good amount of money.” 

His grandmother guffawed at him, “Well, it was my mother’s. It has priceless sentimental value.”

“Enough value to make my ears bleed seventy years after its purchase?” He snapped, then his face softened, “I’m sorry. That was very rude of me.”

“Yes,” She sighed. “It was. But it’s quite alright, some people get very unsettled by listening to old records and things. Perhaps you were born too late to appreciate the same things I do.” 

She was always good at clapping back. “Perhaps I was,” He said through a smile, the kind that takes one by surprise. “How’s your scarf coming along?”

“If I don’t ask you about your poetry, my darling, you certainly need not ask me about the state of this...three armed-cardigan.” 

“Big gran,  _ how-- _ ”

“Well, I don’t know. It’s all very jumbled in here,” She tapped her forehead. “Perhaps my hands just listened to my heart. This will keep a very nice three armed boy warm.” 

“All you had to do was knit straight--”

“If I don’t instruct you on how to win a prize for your prose, do you have any justification for the logic required to threaten the foundation of my artistic genius and have the absolute nerve, the complete gall to comment on my...masterpiece?” She blinked at him expectantly. “I thought not. Read it out to me.” 

Zayn pouted, slouching over. He brought his feet up onto the armchair and pressed his notebook to his chest with his thighs. “It’s not very good.” 

“Then it must be fantastic.” 

“Fine,” He sighed, opening it up to pout harder at the lines of writing he had just penned a few minutes prior.  _ “There was a man standing at the foot of me bed at the witching hour.” _

“I’m getting the chills, love.” 

_ “He had brought me flowers and sweets and was dressed like he was just about to attend Sunday mass. There lays me--” _

“Lies, dear. It’s lies, not lays.”

_ “There lies me _ \--ugh, big gran, it’s poetic license.  _ There lays me distraught, shivering out of my wits, yet somehow fantastically amused. He looked so silly, being all sunny during the witching hour. And the air felt warmer when he spoke to me, and heaven felt sooner.”  _

“If you manage to smuggle yourself in.” 

“Big gran.” 

“Sorry love. Continue, please,” She said through a cackle, clearly delighted with her grandson’s embarrassment. She continued with her knitting, the metal needles clacking together every few uneven moments, setting a rhythm to the words Zayn would never know were so powerful said out loud. 

_ “Can you eat sunflowers, he asked. Because I can. I like them with honey and in between bites, a pudding, then a drink of cool water. I noticed how sunflowers don’t grow where you live.”  _

Zayn’s grandmother stopped and looked up at him. 

_ “I prefer the smell of oil, I told him. I learned that eating isn’t truly essential when your eyes have had their fill. Before disappearing, he shook his head, and it was the first time I’ve seen him frown. I brought you sunflowers, he said. I brought you sunflowers, he repeated. Let your eyes rest.”  _

She sniffed, when startled the fuck out of Zayn and prompted him to look up with a red face. 

_ “And that is how I’ve been able to sleep at night.”  _

“Zayn,” She cooed softly. “Come here, my love.” She outstretched her arms, waiting until he crawled into them and tucked his entire body onto her lap, like he was still a baby. “That was beautiful, my darling.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You should submit that one.”

“I have to edit it, then edit it some more,” His words were muffled in her shoulder. “You chose a very nice yarn for this, big gran. Three-armed boy’s lucky to have it.”

She snorted, “It was a joke. I've been knitting since your father was in grade school, I’m neither an idiot or an accidental prodigy. You see, this third arm represents the invisible one you have--”

“--Excuse me?”

“Shut up, the one you have that always holds out an open umbrella for a stranger who might get caught in the rain,” She kissed his head. “You’re my favorite, you know that?”

“I do. So it really is a symbolic masterpiece.”

“Pah. Now that you know it’s for you, it really is, hm?”

**_One year later_ **

“Zayn, jaan.” 

It was a nightmare. It had rained in the morning, so the grass underneath his knees was soaking wet like a sponge under rushing water, The mist felt suffocating, and the absence of a sun was starting to become too ironic to be true. “Zayn, pay your respects to your grandmother and let’s go.”

He couldn’t say anything back. In fact, he could hardly move, suddenly very aware of the amount of energy it took to take in a breath and release it back into the world, and everything felt used and pointless, if not absolutely deplorable. Whoever made it so that you’d have to have your name carved into a rock once you die is going to have words; feels too permanent to ever really move on from staring at it. 

“Meri jaan,” A body came and squatted next to him, pulling him in for a hug. “You’re ruining your suit. Come on, my love.”

“No,” Zayn shook his head, “I’ll stay here.”

“Ridiculous, very ridiculous, not to mention impossible.” Yaser kissed his forehead, brushing all of Zayn’s hair back away from his face. “Let’s go.”

“Can you drop me off at Lou’s house?”

“You don’t want to stay with your family, hm?”

“No, frankly, I don’t.” 

Yaser kissed him again and sighed, “Fair enough. To the Tomlinson’s, please.”

“If Zaynie gets to go to Louis’, can I go to Chelsea’s?” Walihya asked, kicking her legs from her car seat just to make her shoes light up. 

“No, sweetie.” 

“Is Zayn officially the favorite now that his only friend’s dead?” Doniya scoffed, checking herself in her front-facing camera. 

“No and no,” Trisha hissed at them, looking very stern through the rearview mirror. “Please stop. Today of all days is not one to justify torturing your brother.”

Zayn scoffed, “Thank you for the patronization, mum. I’ll get out here. Don’t want to be seen walking to Lou’s house from a hearse.” 

“This is not a hearse.” Yaser corrected. 

“It was a metaphor,” Zayn rolled his eyes, “If this family didn’t have their heads stuffed into the ground digging for oil, you would have understood that.” 

“I’m expecting you to have a better attitude once you come home,” Trisha warned, especially when his father’s face turned crestfallen at that remark. “And just remember that every useless hobby you’ve consumed yourself with is all funded by our silly upside-down heads.”

Zayn scoffed again before aggressively shoving the door open, shimmying out and patting out the dirt that had dried onto his knees and suit. His youngest sister, Safaa gave him a sympathetic smile before reaching into her pocket to hand him something. “What is this?”

“It’s a Lion bar. Big gran always liked those, so. I bought a few.” She gulped, waiting to see how inflammatory his reaction would be. However, Zayn’s entire face relaxed as he stared at it in his hand. 

“It’s warm.”

“Sorry, s’been in my pocket all day. Should still be good, though,” Safaa licked her lips, quite surprised at how soft her brother’s voice just became. “I’ll get you lots and lots of Lion bars.”

“Alright, darling, we’re wasting gas.” Trisha curtly cut in before Zayn could answer, smiling faintly when he looked up at all of them. “Be home by...well, you’re old enough to make your own decisions. Just don’t ruin the suit.” 

Zayn nodded, Adam's apple bobbing down. “Thanks, Saf.”

“Bye,” She managed to get out before he shut the door, walking behind the limousine to the sidewalk. It was only a few seconds later before they sped off, making the bottom of his waistcoat fly into the wind. 

“Fuck me,” Zayn sighed, ripping open the plastic with shaky fingers. He shoved half of the candy bar into his mouth before stumbling his way to the courtyard of his best friend’s house, wondering to himself how chewing could become such a foreign idea in his brain, fixated with the way his molars ground up against each other and his tongue meticulously swiped and wiped over his teeth on instinct. It felt wrong to enjoy it without his grandmother. 

Even typing felt weird, incessantly thumbing at his phone for Louis to come down and get him. It took a fair minute, but the second his best friend swung open the door and outstretched his arms, the Lion bar Zayn had in his hand dropped and landed on the threshold like a deadweight. 

“Hi, my love,” Louis sighed softly, squeezing Zayn’s torso tightly with his arms and kissing his head. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come.”

“It was just my family,” Zayn shook his head. “And they were being such cunts about it I thought I was going to smash their heads in.”

“Oh, no.” Louis tutted, dragging the limp boy into the house. “Were you eating chocolate?”

Zayn nodded, sniffling as he kicked his shoes off with his toes, then shedding of his coat and blazer right onto the floor. 

“But you hate milk chocolate,”

“Gran loved it,” He whimpered, feeling exhausted and too spent to really say much more than that. “Can we take a nap? I just, I just want to.” He flopped onto his side for good measure. 

“Yes, love, of course we can,” Louis picked him up, surprisingly strong for an omega who weighed only a few pounds more than Zayn. “Jesus, you lost more weight.”

“No I didn’t,” Zayn grumbled, trying to consciously make himself lighter as Louis began to trek them up the stairs. “Don’t make me eat today, fuck.”

Louis giggled by the time they got to the top, a little breathlessly, a little fond. “I won’t, promise. Now try and sleep for a little while. Have you...have you worked on your book lately?” He asked as he laid Zayn down onto his bed, flapping the duvets and blanket covers and blankets on top of his friend. 

“To be honest, I feel like I did, because I’ve been thinking so much,” Zayn made grabby hands at Louis until he finally snuggled up next to him. “But then I forget to write it all down, then I forget what I even thought about. It’s a cruel, merciless cycle.”

“Well, no one can blame you, these are trying times.” Louis kissed the back of Zayn’s neck, right over his omega spot. “What about dreams? The boy you’ve been seeing at the foot of your bed?”

Zayn didn’t answer, then a sharp inhale, “Why do you ask?”

“Dunno, sometimes conversation helps you sleep.” Louis intertwined their fingers together, as if they were really dating.

“This bed smells like you.”

“I should hope so.” 

“Can it always smell like you? When I run away and such and I just want to smell you,” Zayn sniffs, burying one side of his face into Louis’ pillow. “Don’t ever find an alpha. He’ll just stink up this place.”

“Stop trying to change the subject,” Louis released Zayn’s hand to start combing his friend’s hair back, lovingly grooming like platonic friends do. “Answer me.”

“...Of course I have the dreams. Since I met you I’ve had the dreams,” Zayn reached up and grabbed Louis’ hand to bring it down and kiss his knuckles. “He’s looked sadder and sadder lately, and I had no idea why. Perhaps he’s an oracle.”

“Perhaps you’re the oracle, and he’s a spirit.” Louis kissed his shoulders. “These are great ideas for your next piece.”

“Stop talking about work, I’m grieving.”

Louis chuckled, then kissed at Zayn’s neck until he fell asleep. 

He got in a solid ten minutes before everything went to shit. 

“Excuse me,” 

He shimmied a little when he became aware of Louis hugging him too tightly, grunting around in discomfort when Louis only grasped him tighter. “What?”

“Hello!”

“Huh?” Zayn asked, squinting shallowly in front of him. Louis was still dead asleep, so there was no way the both of them were hearing this. “What?” He repeated, because his mouth was so dry and tasted disgusting from the chocolate. 

“Hi,” The boy. The one he’d been dreaming about. “Sorry to disturb you.”

“What the actual fuck,” Zayn cursed monotonously, jaw dropping when the boy reacted by blushing and covering his mouth. “Now you’re...now you’re actually striking conversation with me instead of just saying random shit. Yeah, I’m officially going insane.”

“This is a dream, you know,” Ghost boy smiled brightly at him. “In fact, I’m not even real. I’m a…fragment, you could say.” He began spinning around in circles. 

“A fragment of what?” In that case, Zayn roughly sat up and tossed Louis to the side. “Are you a ghost?”

“No, I’m a fragment of time. You see, I used to look like this at one point. But now I’m older; your age. I’m sixteen in this form,” The boy then materialized a candy bar out of nowhere. “And Lion bars are my favorite too. I love milk chocolate. I know you hate it, though.” 

“Why do you--why do you show up here?” Zayn bluntly asked, disregarding all shame. “Why do I see you?”

“I’m your soulmate,” Ghost boy smiled at him. “And I love you!”

“What?” Zayn scoffed. “I’ve lived long enough to know that soulmates definitely are just a myth.”

“You present when you’re 16, and sometimes, you get real lucky and you get a soulmate. For some people, maybe they smell different. Maybe they look different. Maybe you two just click. But every once in a while, some people dream about them,” Ghost boy grinned, teeth full of chocolate. “You started dreaming about me when you presented. The real version of me, somewhere out there, dreams about you.”

Zayn gasped when he reached forward and he could touch the boy’s face. “This really is a dream, you’re so warm.”

The boy giggled softly before leaning into Zayn’s hand, caressing gently with one drooping swoop. “Why’re you sad, Zayn?”

“What’s your name?” Zayn asked immediately, gulping and scooching closer to the boy on the floor. 

“I can’t say.”

“Well, that’s bullshit.” Zayn gave him a look. “How am I supposed to find you if I don’t know your name?”

“You know what I look like,” The boy smiled coyly, shivering when the side of Zayn’s finger brushed his cheek. “Well, sort of. This image of me right now was right before I met alpha puberty.”

“No offense, you don’t really look like an alpha. With your sunny yellow and your, your gigglin’ and stuff.” Zayn cracked a small smile at him. “Why talk to me today?”

“You seemed extra sad today.” The boy’s face fell. “And when you’re sad, I’m sad. So could you imagine what the real me has to go through, dreaming about your depressed 16 year old self every day for five years?” 

Zayn cringed, “Oh god. I know this is all probably just some fever dream, but even thinking about what I looked like when I was 16 is giving me the chills. But, come on. Today hasn’t been the saddest I’ve ever been. You’ve--you were there when I was at my lowest point.”

The boy looks up at him. “Yeah,” He whispered. “In fact, I had more pressing incentives to discuss. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you’d eventually figure it out, but...” The boy reached down and lifted his shirt up, revealing a large, hollow hole in the center of his torso. “...I’m disappearing.”

_ “And there was music, and there were wonderful roses, they tell me in sweet, silent meadows of dawn, and dew--” _

The boy gasped and looked up, dropping his shirt and turning his head to an unknown. Zayn asked, “What’s wrong? Where’s that bloody song coming from anyways?”

“This is our song,” He turned back and smiled so brightly that Zayn nearly went blind. “I love it so much. You played it for me so many times.”

“My granddad used to let it run to make me fall asleep,” Zayn realized out loud. “Especially when I got the hot spots. Jesus, what a baby I was.”

“You were so cute when you were 16,” The boy disagreed. “You’d hum this song and then fall asleep with your mouth open.”

“Are you a spirit?” Zayn’s eys pointed downward towards the boy’s shirt, suddenly remembering what they were talking about before they both got distracted. “Why are you disappearing?”

“I guess you could call me a spirit,” The boy hummed. “Maybe a soul guide. And for the other question, I’m not really sure. I think it has to do with time running out.”

_ “And there was love, all around, but I never heard it singing! No, I never heard it at all, till there was--” _

“You,” The boy sustained the last note, getting distracted again. Gosh, he got distracted a lot.

“Are you disappearing because I haven’t found you?” Zayn asked softly, unable to get the perfectly symmetrical, gaping hole out of his mind. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” The boy waved it off. “You’ve been through quite a lot, Zayn Malik. Hm, I like saying your name out loud. I can’t wait to meet you.”

“Nevertheless, this is my fault. You’re my soulmate, I’m supposed to find you,” Zayn gulped, eyebrows frowning. “Can you give me any hints?”

“Hm,” The boy contemplated, tapping his chin. “Well, I can tell you that I’m a lot closer than you might expect. I’m not on the other side of the world, for instance.”

“I can tell, you’re English,” Zayn laughed, then marveling when the boy materialized a bundle of sunflowers. “Sunflowers. Maybe that’s a clue.”

“Maybe,” The boy giggled. “To be really honest, Zayn, this--this image of me. I’ve done a lot of thinking over the past five years, and I feel like I figured a lot about why I’ve been shown to you. I think this,” He pointed to the entirety of himself. “Is a piece of the real guy’s soul. I’m out there somewhere, 21 years old, probably dreaming about the piece of your soul that’s been stuck to him. If I’m disappearing like this, what if the 21 year old me never gets this piece of his soul back? I don’t want to be lost.”

“Yeah,” Zayn sniffled, suddenly feeling even more horrible. “Come here.” He beckoned with open arms, eyes fluttering shut when the boy leaped into them and hugged him close. 

“You’re gonna wake up soon.”

“Can I not?” Zayn laughed, rubbing his back. “Can I just stay here with you?”

“No, silly. Why stay here when you can go out and be happy?” The boy kissed Zayn’s cheek. “Oh, and I love you!” 

“I love you too,” Zayn mumbled, before his eyes shot open and was met with Louis looking at him strangely. “Huh? What?  _ What?” _

“Um, I love you too, babe.” Louis cackled. “Who were you dreaming about this time, Thor? Damn, now that’s an alpha.” He was busy pulling a sweatshirt over his head, and the moon was fully up in the sky. He felt like he was only sleeping for half an hour, but in fact, many hours had gone by. 

“I had, I dreamed about him again,” Zayn gasped, gratefully taking the glass of water Louis offered him. “It was so weird, this time we actually had this full conversation, and everything makes so much more  _ sense _ now.”

“What makes more sense?” Louis sat down on the side of the bed and immediately slapped a hand to Zayn’s forehead. “You feeling alright?”

Zayn brushed him off, “I’m feeling fine. Perfect, actually. I think I know what I need to do now.”

“Eat some dinner and take your meds?”

“Well, yes, but now I have a mission, Lou.” 

Louis smiled in a way that screamed pity and support for a friend that’s falling apart. “And what is that, love?”

“I have a soulmate!” Zayn jumped up excitedly, “I have a soulmate!” 

  
  



End file.
